


'Till death do us part

by Marvelous_Stark



Series: The thing about death and love - is that in the end - they both hurt the most [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Hurt John Watson, Hurt Sherlock Holmes, M/M, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, rated T for curse words, this takes place sometime after s04e3 TFP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelous_Stark/pseuds/Marvelous_Stark
Summary: John and Sherlock go about their mornings as usual. Something happens and John is hurt.But, things just get evenworseafter that because when are things ever okay?---Or:Sherlock get's dusted when Thanos snaps, because we do love a good ol' crossover - don't we?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: The thing about death and love - is that in the end - they both hurt the most [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710223
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	'Till death do us part

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted sometime in April 2020, but I felt it was rushed and decided to edit it. So if you think you've read this before, you probably have once. But it's entirely rewritten.

John smiled at Sherlock as the man entered the room, the latter rubbing his eyes sleepily and yawning out a ' _morning'_ before flopping into his chair.

"Morning, Sherlock. Tea as usual?"

Sherlock hummed his answer, rubbing his eyes again before steepling his fingers under his chin.

John put the kettle on the stove, then turned it on and poured the water in. He looked away and opened the fridge in the hopes of making some eggs and toast for breakfast, only to sigh in disappointment when he found none inside. Instead he found one of Sherlock's experiments inside.

He closed the fridge and turned to Sherlock, placing his hands on his hips and shouting towards him. "Sherlock, did you replace the eggs with one of your experiments? I thought i told you not to put them in there anymore, Rosie could get into one of them."

When he didn't get an answer from the detective, he sighed and rolled his eyes. Despite his apparent annoyance, he couldn't help but smile fondly at one of the things that remained the same after everything that's happened. It was nice, he supposed. Familiar.

John blinked when he realized Sherlock was staring at him. No, not _at_ him - behind him?

"-ohn. John!"

Oh. Sherlock was standing in front of him now. How did that happen?

It came to John's attention that he must've blacked out for a second there. "Sorry?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow but said nothing about what just happened. "The kettle is boiling."

John blinked again, raising a hand awkwardly before putting it down again. "Right."

He turned around and Sherlock did the same, walking back to the sitting room and plopping into his chair, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. 

John turned off the stove before grabbing the kettle and putting it on the counter, opening the cupboards to grab the bag of bread and two mugs. He popped two pieces into the toaster and opened the fridge again, grabbing the butter from it's spot on the shelf and grabbing a butter knife from the drawer. He proceeded to make both of them breakfast - if it could even be _considered_ breakfast with how little food there was. He drifted to his thoughts again while buttering the newly toasted toast, staring blankly as the knife drifted across the surface.

He was so inside of his thoughts that he didn't notice his hand bumped into the kettle until it was too late.

Sherlock was at his side in an instant, dragging john away from the kettle and to the sink, John cursing like a sailor the entire way. Sherlock turned on the cold water and John hissed at the sudden burning and itching feeling in his hands as the water reacted to the burns.

Sherlock looked at him apologetically, wincing when he got a proper look at John's hands. They were red and there was welts starting to form where the burns were the worst. Overall it would need some bandages, it wasn't enough to where john had to go to the hospital. 

"John, I'm going to go get the first-aid from the loo, alright? Stay here, keep your hands under the water until i get back. Don't touch anything."

John rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know Sherlock. I'm the real doctor here."

Sherlock looked at John one last time before moving away and walking towards the washroom.

John sighed when he looked at his hands. They were shaking now - either from the cold water or from the burns, he couldn't tell. He was 94% sure he was in shock, with how fast his heart was inside of his chest and his accelerated breathing. John knew he should get more symptoms before he could actually be _sure_ he was in shock, though. 

His head snapped up when he heard something -almost like something falling, it was quite loud- from the direction of the loo. Where Sherlock was. Alone.

John could feel his breath stutter as his mind went through all the possibilities - Someone could have broken in without John noticing and snuck up on Sherlock; maybe struck him in the back of his head.. Or, no, Sherlock would have noticed and definitely done something... Could Sherlock have just dropped something accidentally? It seems plausible, with how clumsy the man could be despite how graceful he is when he's in a fight.

He waited, waited for something to happen. Another noise, Sherlock murmuring a quiet apology to John, for just _something._

But there was nothing. Just silence. He thought he heard something from outside of the flat, but the only thing on his mind right now was Sherlock. 

John hesitated, but drew his hands out from the water and carefully shut the tap off, wincing when his hands throbbed from the action. He ignored it, and instead made his way to the washroom door. He made sure to walk slowly in an attempt to quiet his steps, just in case there actually _was_ someone inside their flat. 

John pressed his ear against the door, waiting a couple of seconds to listen for any signs of movement. When he heard nothing, he decided to take a risk and knock quietly on the door.

"Sherlock?"

_Silence._

He knocked again, louder this time.

"Sherlock, are you okay?"

Still nothing. John started properly worrying now, wondering if Sherlock could have possibly slipped and hit his head on something sharp.

John's breath started to speed up as the danger of the situation kicked in; the possibility of someone being hurt making adrenaline rush through his veins.

"Sherlock, I'm going to open the door, okay?"

No answer, but John put his hand on the handle anyway; turning the knob and slowly opening the door.

Except there was no one there. The window was open and the curtain was flapping wildly from the wind, and - were those screams he heard?

_What was happening today?_

John stepped into the washroom, almost tripping over the first-aid he hadn't noticed on the floor - which was a bit odd. Where exactly _did_ Sherlock go?

It was probably not a good idea that he looked behind the curtain.

Apparently, there _were_ people screaming; and they had a very good reason to do so.

There were abandoned cars on fire - some of them were even crashed into electrical lines and buildings; some of them had unconscious people in them. Everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off, all of them panicking and not knowing what to do. _It was complete chaos._

John could feel his eyes widen and his breath stutter. "Holy shit."

Worry was the last thing on his mind right now - all he knew he had to do was _find_ _Sherlock_ and make sure Mrs. Hudson is okay. And, then, maybe find out _what the fuck is happening._

* * *

Greg Lestrade was a calm, rational, overall kind man. Sure, he's done some things he regrets in life, but hasn't everyone?

But sometimes people just get on his nerves. Especially this woman, who was the most _annoying_ person he has _ever_ dealt with. And that's saying a lot, when you know Sherlock Holmes. To be more annoying than that man - that's one hell of an impressive feat.

Greg rolled his eyes at the woman. "Ma'am, I can't arrest someone just because they've hit your dog. It was self defense, your dog attacked them and almost ripped their leg off!" 

The woman growled and bared her teeth at Greg, almost like the dog in her hands was. "My dog didn't do anything! And neither did I! If anything, the man is responsible! He almost killed my poor honeybun." 

Greg sighed, exhausted. He had no patience to deal with her right now. "Ma'am, it's the law. The man had a right to do it. You're dog _and_ you are in the wrong here. The man has a right to sue you."

The woman went red in the face with anger. "i thought police officers were supposed to support the victim! This is insanity! Where is your manager?!"

Greg felt happy that he was the highest rank here at the moment.

"Ma'am, the only person here with the highest authority is me. If you have any _reasonable_ problems, you have to speak with me or my supervisor. You can contact him at -"

The woman's face scrunched, stamping "I don't want to call him, I wan't to talk to him in person!"

Dear _god, was this woman annoying._

"Jesus, for the last time! We can't arrest a man for defending himself against your ugly dog! If you really need to talk to my supervisor, _call **her**_ you spoiled arsehole!" He remembered to put a _lot_ of emphasis on the gender part of his supervisor.

The woman did not at look pleased at what he just said. Which, he probably, shouldn't have said that. He's going to get yelled at a lot for losing his temper..

Greg didn't care. This prat needed to get put into her place. "Get. out."

The woman flared her nostrils and glared, stomping out of the doors and bumping into anyone that got into her way.

Greg rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

After having a small mental breakdown inside of his head, he moved his hand and opened his eyes - to see the entirety of Scotland Yard staring back at him.

"What are you all doing? Get back to work!" He waved his hands around to try and make a point.

There were many mumbled _'Yes, sir'_ s murmured into his direction.

Greg sighed. He was ready for this day to be over.

* * *

John had raced down the stairs of 221B and ran to Mrs. Hudson's door, pounding on it loudly.

"Mrs. Hudson!"

John cursed when the only reply he got were the screams from outside.

He tried the handle - and when it came back locked - stepped away from the door before ramming it with his side, effectively breaking the door down. 

John rushed inside, shaking his head from side to side as he searched for the woman.

"Mrs. Hudson.. - Sherlock this isn't funny!" He doesn't even know why he said it - it was obvious even to him that they both weren't here right now.

John cursed and walked into his landlady's sitting room; where the telly was still blaring the news loudly as she last left it. John missed a couple words the woman on the screen said, but he could get a gist of what was happening. And _god,_ what even _is_ happening? 

_**-ousands of millions dead and still rising - people are dying out of thin AIR. They turn into dust and just - just float away! Ricky - he- he just- he's gone! Everyone is gone! There's no news from authorities or the world renowned Avengers yet - but we're expecting to get some more news soon. Stay tuned to-** _

The screen cut out just as a crash from outside reached his ears.

John could feel tears start to fill his eyes, and he stubbornly rubbed them away before they could fall. God, he just hopes they're okay. That _everyone's_ okay.

* * *

Greg didn't know how it happened - one moment he was talking to Anderson and then he blinked and the man was gone. He looked around and saw people turning to dust. _Dust. What the fuck is happening?_ It was only moments later that Greg heard the first scream. And then the crashes. And then _everyone_ was screaming.

Greg ran outside as soon as he heard the screaming start; his instincts as a police officer taking action immediately. It was chaos. Everyone was running around and there were cars scattered about, all of them on fire and damaged in some shape or form. Greg needed to know what the hell was happening and _now._ Then he needed to make sure John and Sherlock were safe.

Duty comes first, though. 

Greg runs around to some people still inside the cars, dragging the unconscious ones outside and propping them on something just in case the care were to blow up. He uses what medical knowledge he has and helps the people who were still conscious.

_He just hopes everyone's okay._

* * *

The outside was about just as bad as John expected.

John had helped some people who were injured in the crashes or in some other way to the best of his ability. There wasn't much he could do, but he was trying his best - and was doing a pretty good damn job at it, too.

He still didn't know where Sherlock was. Or Mrs. Hudson. He knew they were gone, what other explanation would there be? 

Despite his thoughts there was a part of him that hoped. Hoped he was wrong and they were okay.

He can't lose him again. He just can't.

John doesn't know what he's going to do.

* * *

Greg had figured out what happened. He just didn't _believe_ it.

Who would? He certainly wouldn't have, if he didn't experience it first-hand.

It was all pretty much over now, according to the news. Even though it's over, Greg still has a lot of work to do. It'll takes years to sort this all out.

The people are all demanding answers - and when they didn't get proper ones - they started swarming the station.

Greg was pretty sure he was going to get an amazing migraine soon. 

_Where's Mycroft when you need him?_ Greg would've laughed if the situation wasn't so dire.

He needs to contact Sherlock. Needs to know he's still alive. He doesn't know what John might do if he isn't.

oh my god, _John. He and Sherlock must be going through hell right now._

* * *

John was in hell.

That's what happened - he must've died and gone to hell. He couldn't find Sherlock _or_ Mrs. Hudson. Mycroft isn't answering him. Neither is Greg. Neither is Molly.

No. One. Is. Answering.

He even tried Anderson and Donovan - but they didn't answer either. Whether they were all busy with calming down the public, or they were dead, John didn't _know._

He doesn't like not knowing. Never has. He needs to know if they're all okay - _he can't lose everyone in a single day!_

John did call Molly though, and he almost cried in relief when she answered. Maybe he did. He couldn't really tell over the crying of everyone else.

Molly was just as frantic as everyone else, wondering why no one was answering. John just told her he didn't know.

Because he really. Did. Not. Know.

Molly ended the call soon after that with the promise of heading over to Baker Street right away.

It'd be good to have some company after this. John doesn't know if he can trust himself to be alone right now.

* * *

Mycroft was stressed. After what everyone has started calling _'The Decimation'_ happened he had to make calls to every high up person he knew, trying to get information on what just happened. 

He was informed a while before that there was an attack on New York, and he also knew that the Avengers _'Took care of it,' -_ If what just occurred could be called _taking care of it._ After the attack everything went downhill. World renowned superhero Tony Stark went missing, and then a while after that he was informed on a disturbance in Cockburn Street, Edinburgh. Supposedly locals saw aliens fighting with a robot and a witch. There was massive damage done to buildings, and Mycroft would _really_ like to talk to the people who did that, but he couldn't. Obviously.

Then he was informed that there was a disturbance in the atmosphere somewhere in Wakanda. As if the two aliens attacking New York wasn't enough.

Everything went downhill quickly after he was given that information.

Mycroft hadn't had the chance to contact Sherlock as of yet, and he was beginning to wonder why Sherlock hadn't tried calling _him._ Or at least John, maybe, even Lestrade. Or their nagging Landlady.

But he couldn't worry about them right now.

He had work to do.

* * *

Molly did as promised, arriving about 10 minutes some time after the call they had. 

" _Oh, god.._ "

This time John knows he cries - because she has Rosie sleeping in her arms. Rosie is still here. He had forgotten all about her; the stress of the situation and the fact that he couldn't find Sherlock made Rosie the least of his worries. He hates himself for that - forgetting about his own daughter. But he'll pay attention to that at another time, for now he just wants to celebrate that she's still here. That his daughter is alive and well.He grabs her from Molly's hands and immediately tucks her on his shoulder, holding onto her as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did.

All John could feel was happiness at the fact that two people have not left him yet. He still has _someone._

John had invited her in and she nodded, following him up the stairs. John could practically feel the questions she had rolling off of her in waves; he wasn't even sure if he could answer them any better than anyone else.

When they entered the flat, John was suddenly struck with the loss of his friend. Of course, he doesn't actually know if he's actually dead. But that's what he's assuming right now. Sherlock Holmes may be able to defy death on his greatest days, but he can't defy the act of the universe. 

John blinks to try and stop the tears from falling. He can't lose his cool in front of Rosie - she would know something was wrong and would want to know what made her daddy so sad. John can't deal with a crying infant right now.

Molly chokes on a laugh, tears flowing out of her eyes as she slides her fingers along the chair Sherlock sat in just hours before. John knows she's already figured it out, so he doesn't bother telling her. He just looks at her with red-rimmed eyes, nodding. 

Molly breaks, and John does too.

At that moment they know things will never be the same.

* * *

Mycroft inhaled sharply as soon as John uttered those words over the staticky line of the phone.

He couldn't believe it. He had heard it - his mind was playing it over and over again in his head, how could he have not? Of all the people that had disappeared off the face of the Earth, _why did it have to be him?_

Mycroft's mind immediately went to the last time he saw his little brother - just over a week ago, when Mycroft came to check up on him. John was at work at the time, as Mycroft always made sure he was when he went to their dusty little flat. Sherlock's doctor hasn't been very fond of him ever since Eurus. Sherlock hasn't been either, but they could both tell the.. _event_ impacted them in ways even they couldn't understand. Mycroft had been more protective and Sherlock hasn't cared. Much.

And now he was gone - not because of the Avengers - but because of him. Just years ago - before Sherlock and John met - Mycroft had declined any help from the Avengers whatsoever they needed the British Government for, seeing them at the time as delusional vigilantes instead of the superheroes everyone else saw them as. He had been arrogant at the time, he needed to be put in his place. He should have never said no.

He can't change the past, though. So because of him, he had to sit in a world he took his little brother out of so early in his life.

Mycroft stared ahead blankly, the picture of him and Sherlock as kids he only took out on rare occasions sitting in front of him on his desk.

**1994, January 6th. -Sherlock's 11th birthday.**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> If you want another work where Sherlock is brought back, I'm going to post another story sometime this week all about that! I promise it won't be as sad as this one ;)
> 
> \-----
> 
> Damn, this is the longest thing I've ever written in one sitting. I was really in the mood today!
> 
> \-----
> 
> Remember, there will be a sequel! So if you enjoyed this, I'll be posting part two sometime this week. I'll post it in the series, though, it's not going to be another chapter on this work! :>
> 
> \-----
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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